


The Stolen Shirt

by RiotFalling



Series: Riot’s SteveTonySeptember [6]
Category: The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: Fluff, M/M, Prompt: clothes swap, Sharing Clothes, SteveTonySteptember, getting handsy in the kitchen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-26
Updated: 2019-09-26
Packaged: 2020-10-28 21:41:46
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 809
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20785475
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RiotFalling/pseuds/RiotFalling
Summary: Tony steals Steve’s shirt. It has an effect.





	The Stolen Shirt

Tony stumbles into the kitchen, his hair a mess and still rubbing sleep out of his eyes, heading straight fo the coffee pot, and Steve's breath catches in his throat.

Tony is wearing Steve's shirt. The plain, navy blue t-shirt Steve had been wearing yesterday, the one he'd left on Tony's bedroom floor last night. It's way too big on Tony, hanging loose around his neck and not at all hiding the teeth marks on his collarbones. Steve feels himself flush at the sight, and he honestly can't tell if it's delayed embarrassment or spine-melting want. Probably both. And the way Natasha is smirking knowingly at him really isn't helping.

Tony gives them a sleepy smile as he shuffles past, his eyes still half closed and something almost shy in the curve of his lips. Steve's mouth has gone dry, and he tries to smile back but he has no idea if he actually accomplishes it. Natasha is snickering into her cereal. When Tony stretches one arm up, trying to reach a mug up high in the cabinets and the collar of the shirt falls down off his other shoulder, Steve absolutely cannot help the noise that escapes his throat, low and rough and nearly feral.

Natasha is outright laughing as she picks up her bowl and leaves the room, but all Steve cares about, all he can focus on, is the curve of Tony's shoulder. More specifically, the now visible bruise where Tony's neck meets his shoulder, and the vivid memory Steve has of putting the mark there in the first place. And Steve has to crowd Tony up against he counter, just has to, has to get his hands on Tony's waist and his mouth on Tony's skin.

Tony makes a soft surprised sound, his hands slapping down the brace himself against the counter as Steve presses in against him. “Well good morning,” Tony says, voice still low and a little sleep rough and Steve loves it.

Steve just hums in response, unwilling to pull his lips away from the warm skin of Tony's neck. His shirt hangs loose around Tony's hips and it's so easy for Steve to slip his hands up underneath, get his palms on the smooth, warm skin of Tony's sides. Tony smells like him, and Steve can't tell if it's because of the shirt or because they spent the night wrapped around each other, but either way he can't get enough of it.

“You realize we're still standing in the middle of the kitchen, right?” Tony's voice is mostly even, but this close Steve can feel the way Tony's breath catches in his chest, the way Tony is shaking ever so slightly under his hands.

Steve groans unhappily, because he had actually kind of forgotten about that. Part of him doesn't care, can't stand the thought of stopping long enough to move, but most of Steve realizes that he won't be able to look the rest of the team in the eye if he gets caught getting handsy in the kitchen.

Steve lets his eyes move around the room almost desperately before they land on the door to the pantry. Within seconds Steve is manhandling Tony across the kitchen and into the small room and pulling the door shut behind them.

Tony spins to face him as the auto lights flick on. “You realize this isn't much better, right?” He asks, smirking.

Steve could argue, could point out that it is actually a little better, but he can't find any words, can't stop staring at the bruised line of Tony's throat. When he finally drags his eyes up Tony is just watching him, knowing and smug.

“You did this on purpose,” Steve accuses, but he can't really sound too angry when he' s more focused on backing Tony in against he shelves.

"I really didn't," Tony says, laughing a little even as he winds his arms around Steve's shoulders. "But I'm definitely not regretting it. And I am definitely planning on using this to my advantage, in the future."

And Steve just has to kiss that smug look off his face, keep kissing him until Tony is breathless and clutching at his shoulders. When Steve finally pulls away Tony just blinks at him, flushed and dazed and gorgeous, and when Steve drops to his knees he's treated to the sight of Tony's eyes going even wider, his cheeks flushing even redder, as a low groan slips out of him.

Tony tips his head back against the self with a breathy sigh as Steve shoves the stolen shirt up his chest and focuses on sucking a couple new marks into Tony's hip. "So using this to my advantage," Toy repeats, sliding his fingers into Steve's hair, and he still manages to sound smug even as he moans.

Steve finds that he doesn't mind.


End file.
